


An Angel

by Shantae



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: M/M, i mean not explicitly. but yknow, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8781841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shantae/pseuds/Shantae
Summary: Dieck liked most of his scars.(theme: scarred)





	

**Author's Note:**

> there's literally no one better for this theme than our own wounded tiger.
> 
> okay so jsyk: in his supports with lot he mentions he was captured for torturing purposes and i HC that his back is full of scars from then. (i thought this was canon until i realised this is never explicitly mentioned and i once again took my own hcs for canon)
> 
> i don't know how to end fics.
> 
> also named: i dont know which style to write this in so i do both

He didn't mind it when others saw them. Scars, after all, told a story, and were nothing to be ashamed of.

 

But when people asked him about it, or worse, gave him pity looks when they realised what the scars on his back were, he regretted his decision for a split second, thinking that maybe it  _ was _ better when no one saw them.

 

Whenever someone asked him,  _ hey, what are the weird scars across your back?,  _ he'd laugh, a bit nervously, and tell them what he'd told all the others:  _ I fell from a really high tree, _ or, if they were around his age,  _ I was into some really kinky shit when I was younger _ , because that seemed to end the conversation with (most of) them, and he didn't really care what others thought of him anyway. He was there to do his job; no need to share depressing stories with people who could die the next day.

 

The only people he had told the truth were Lot and Wade, more so to protect them than anything else. He didn't want their pity and their sorry looks. He just wanted to prevent it from happening to the people he cared about.

 

He didn't like it when people mentioned the scars on his back. Except for that time  _ he  _ did it.

 

“...You're an angel.”

Dieck turned around to face the source of the sudden statement, a deadly myrmidon named Rutger who had joined their army only recently. In his hand was his trusty killing edge, but he looked conflicted.

They looked at each other for quite a while, one man standing there unsurely and the other trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Finally, Dieck broke the silence. “...What?”

The myrmidon sheathed his sword. “You're an angel. Or rather, a fallen one. So I cannot cut you down.”

“Wait, what.” Dieck had trouble keeping up with the man. Five minutes ago, he was polishing his blade while sitting on a rock at the riverside. Now, a weird man was claiming he was an angel, and also that he originally came to ‘cut him down’. “You were going to kill me?!”

“I was going to test your strength, since you seem like the most capable one in this army.” Rutger stepped closer. “But now that I know you're a fallen angel, I can't. It explains your power, too.”

“The hell?!” Dieck finally stood up from his sitting position, his sword still in his left hand and a rag in the other. He had never been this confused in his life. “Do I look like a fucking angel to you?!”  


To that, Rutger cocked his head. “...Well… no,” he finally said. “However. I have seen the marks of your wings.”

At that, Dieck couldn't help but laugh. “The mark of my what now? What's next, you're going to tell me I have a halo too?”

Rutger narrowed his eyes, and Dieck laughed even harder when he realised the man was staring intently at the top of his head. “No. You don't. Though the teal of your hair in the sunlight looks very… that is not the point.” He moved a hand to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, giving himself a moment to think. “Your back… it is littered with scars your wings left behind when you lost them.”

Ah. So he had seen them. Dieck was unsure if he should laugh or yell, so he just scoffed. If only he had gotten them because they were ‘wing-marks’. “Sorry to disappoint, but the way I got these is much less holy than how you think I got ‘em.”

“That doesn't matter.” He watched as the myrmidon got even closer to him, but still kept a safe distance. “Those scars… only angels wear them. Regardless of how they got them.”

Dieck folded his arms. “I don't need you to pity me,” he spat.

“I'm not pitying you,” Rutger quickly replied with a glare. Dieck glared back at him and he closed his eyes, suppressing a heavy sigh. “All I'm saying is… I've seen you around camp. I've seen the way you react to people mentioning your scars. I'm telling you not to be ashamed of them, for they are proof of your strength.”

The man had gone from I'm-here-to-kill-you to complimenting his strength and Dieck had never been this flattered. “What's this?” He cocked an eyebrow, a smug look on his face. “Can the quiet, deadly, revenge-seeking myrmidon actually be nice at times?”

“Only to people who deserve it,” was the equally smug response, and Dieck noticed that he was even mimicking his smirk. He hadn't thought Rutger could pull other faces than glaring angrily and having a pissed-off look on his face.

“Soooo, did you come out here to the riverside to hit me up with that bad pick-up line or was there other business you had here?”

Rutger shot him a glare, but Dieck could see he didn’t really mean it. “There is. ...Dinner’s ready.”

“What?! You could’ve told me that sooner!” He ran towards the startled myrmidon and slung an arm around his shoulder, dragging the poor man with him in his fast pace. “Let’s go! My stomach’s been rumbling for hours now.” Rutger squirmed, but didn’t break the hold Dieck had on him, and let the taller man drag him back to camp. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t Merlinus but Allan who had cooked today. 


End file.
